Prelude

On Saturday afternoon last, Burnley & Astley Bridge met on the ground of the former at Calder Vale, to contest in the first round of the Lancashire Challenge Cup. Astley Bridge had it all their own way throughout, & won the game eight goals to none. A large company assembled to watch the match. This is the first year the Burnley club has played association rules.

Burnley Express (18-10-1882)

1
Since the days of wooden rattles
Burnley’s loved its footy battles,
& its workplace tittle-tattles
Bettin’ wages on the score;
Underneath those ever fat hills
Kissing clouds upon the moor,
Is the club we all adore.

2
Well, mi name is Damian Bullen
& mi loyalty’s a full ‘un
& I’ve sang for Jimmy Mullen
From the Longside at Turf Moor,
Weather shining, shite & sullen,
Always Claret to the core,
Only now & evermore.

3
Burnley born & born a poet,
Aye, & mate I bloody know it,
So I thought that I would show it
Because what’s a poet for?
But to sing about their passions,
So with pride I join the roar
Of, ‘No, Nay, Never No More…’

4
You might think this out of order
But I was an Accy Roader
& mi mum could not afford a
Ticket for me down Turf Moor;
So I snuck in with the players
About an hour or so before
They’d unlock the turnstiles’ door.

5
Where I read Roy of the Rovers,
Tannoys practicing voiceovers,
Kissing all mi lucky clovers
Hid behind a toilet door;
Then moved up to the Bob Lord
When the first Longsiders roar,
Skennin’ on the ground with awe.

6
I was well & truly smitten,
By the Burnley bug was bitten,
Like a freshly mewing kitten
Flicking marbles with a paw,
From the seat where I was sittin’
I could hear the Longside roar
Thro’, ‘No Nay Never No More…’

7
Based upon the old ‘Wild Rover,’
Sung a trillion times over
In the boats twyx Cork & Dover,
Long sung staple of folklore;
When some handsome Casanova
Prances tho’ an alehouse door
To a debt forg’d years ago.

8
As he ask’d the bar for credit
The landlady laugh’d, ‘forget it,’
But as soon as she had said it
Shower’d on that alehouse floor
Golden coins, for he had med it
On his long, transglobal tour,
& he’ll never rove no more;

9
So sitting up or standing tall,
If going up or in freefall,
We Clarets always heed the call
To raise up, with a roar,
The greatest football song of all
The famed espirit de corps
Of, ‘No Nay Never No More…’

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